This

is the latest update. You’re there. It doesn’t get any newer.

Small world

Six dollars for a tiny brick of cheese. Six Goddamned dollars. Convenience. It’s a convenience store. Over four gets a two litre container of milk. He bristles at this reality daily, and then daily on his way home from work gives up money in aid of expedience. Exiting through the back of the […]

Journal

‘Life contains infinite possibilities. Each instant contains infinite possibilities. Each isolated moment a random piece of time sampled from everything at once in possibility. Poetry selects a thread, and the rest is waste.’

This is raw thought. This is how it comes out of the pipe. It’s not edited for form or for consideration of audience; it is imagination, invention, and jotting of thought. These are samples from the sources I go to when I need to build a character or the condition of the sky on some imagined day.

Some of it is seriously personal —it should be —it should be embarrassing, alarming, childish, politically incorrect and defeating. Some of it is beautiful, and in one spot as I recall I take the piss out of Charles Bukowski and those who post memes made of his ramblings. Nothing personal.